


Set Fire With Just A Little Spark

by cutie_lou_who



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Excessive texting, Friendship, Kent Parson Needs a Hug, Passive-aggression, Past Child Abuse, Past Violence, WIP, eventual pb&j, kent is obsessed with emojis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-07-11 21:37:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7071397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cutie_lou_who/pseuds/cutie_lou_who
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bitty has too much tub juice and confronts Kent after the Epikegster.<br/>It doesn't go how either of them expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Text Me In The Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly this was just supposed to be a ficlet on tumblr about my favs actually having a conversation. It got away from me. I refuse to apologize tbh

_/=\\_

It takes only one full minute of silence from the other side of the door before Bitty finds himself turning on his heel and storming down the Haus steps.

The Epikegster is still in full swing, and if Bitty was in a better head space he’d probably be grateful that the excessive drunkenness and loud techno pop is covering the way he’s practically stalking to the front door with a look he hasn’t had since one of the Lax bros nearly broke his favorite pie plate.  
Best not to traumatize the Frogs after all.

But if Kent “Probably Made Jack Cry” Parson thinks he’s getting away with saying all those hurtful words unscathed he has another god damn thing coming.  
And that’s all 5′6″ of Eric Richard Bittle.

Now, Bitty’s no stranger to harsh words; growing up any less than obviously irrevocably straight in the South had seen to that. So he knows exactly what Jack must be feeling after Kent “Too Good for the Samwell Hockey Team” Parson threw those careless words over his shoulder while adjusting his stupid snap-back hat. Honestly! Who even wore a cap indoors! His Moo Maw would tsk and tut and have torn that cap right off Parson’s perfectly tousled locks; that really should have been Bitty’s first sign that Kent was Bad News™.

Well Bitty was gonna give that boy the dressing down of his life, famous NHL status be damned.

He quickly scanned the dark yard, idly noticing that most of the partiers were out back, before his eyes landed on the ostentatious sports car parked nearly in the yard. He quickened his steps until he was at the driver’s side window, incessantly tapping until it was rolled down.

“What in God’s name is your fucking issue?” He yelled as soon as he saw a glimpse of that stupid snap back. Barely pausing for breath he barreled on with the strength that only 3 cups of Tub Juice could give his blessed Southern Soul. “You can’t just show up uninvited at our team’s celly and make the team Captain cry!! Ya know that comment ‘bout his Dad would’ve devastated him if you were half the friend they’ll in the Haus would have me believe! Now, I don’t know what type of hoot ‘n nanny y'all get up to with that fancy ass team of yours in Vegas, but that shit ain’t gonna fly here, ya-”

Bitty brings his, honestly quite impressive, rant to a stop when he realizes that Kent Parson is shaking like a leaf.

His hands are clenched tight against the plush leather of the car’s steering wheel, and his eyes have taken on that huge glassy look of someone who is about to cry but trying their darnest to hold it back.

 

Lord have mercy, Bitty has suddenly become the damn bully.

 

He takes a deep breath and a step back, clenches his hands at his sides and grinds out,  
“I’m sorry.”

Kent Parson blinks those big hazel eyes at him before shrugging and turning to stare out the windshield, jaw clenched.  
“Don’t be.. I fucking deserve it.”

There is a long moment of silence before Bitty deflates and makes his way around to the passenger side, gracelessly letting himself in and plopping into the seat beside Kent.  
Kent just sort of looks at him with a bewildered ‘what the fuck, bro’ look before Bitty heaves another heavy sigh. He’s suddenly way too tired for any of this.

But.  
But he got himself into this situation so now he has to commit.

He meets Kent’s eyes and stares him down with a look worthy of Lardo approval. Kent looks begrudgingly impressed. Or confused. Either way it gives Bitty the strength he needs for his next words.

“Look, I don’t know you.” Kent’s eyebrow goes up at that. Making Bitty wish for like the tenth hundredth time he knew how to do that; wait Bittle, focus. “I don’t know you, I don’t know anything about you, or Jack, or if this is even normal behavior for you. So. I shouldn’t’ve yelled at you.”

Bitty gives a little shrug. “Blame it on the Tub Juice if ya want.”

The silence decendes over them again for a little bit, only muffled party noise from the house in the background.

 

“It kinda is.”

Bitty blinks.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Kent gives another one of those helpless shrugs, even though his eyes are decidedly less teary than early.

“Normal behavior for me. I’m kinda an asshole, to be honest.”

“Oh. Um. Okay.” What is Bitty even supposed to say to that, really?

Kent just gives a sharp little nod before turning to look back out the windshield again. His fingers have started to tap almost nervously against his steering wheel. Bitty can’t seem to look away from the profile of his face, casted in hazy light from the Haus party.

“Jack deserved it though.” Kent’s voice is soft, yet almost too loud in the cut off quiet of the car cab they’ve built around them. “You probably won’t believe me, but he can be kinda an asshole too.”

Bitty thinks of the way Jack’s gaze used to pass over him dismissively at team meetings-  
Of Jack’s cold shoulder even as the rest of the team opened their arms wide to Bitty-  
Thinks of the expanse of Jack’s straight back as he said “It was a lucky shot, you know that, right?”-  
Turns to look out the windshield, gaze just as unwavering as Kent’s, face just as stone still, and says,

“I know.”

 

He thinks of Jack waking him up at 4 am for checking practice-  
Of Jack’s soft smile when Bitty takes a check the first time without curling up on the ice-  
Of Jack’s arm around Shitty, eyes fond-  
Thinks of the way Jack seems to hold the whole team close enough that they can learn to lean on each other-  
Bitty closes his eyes, brings his hand to his chest, and says softly,

“But he can be kinda wonderful too.”

 

Kent tenses just slightly before he seems to deflate entirely.  
“Yeah…” He whispers, before his head falls back on the seat and his hands fall listlessly to his lap.  
“I know.” 

 

Another long silence descends over the car. Bitty is debating all the ways he can casually escape and head back to curl up in his bed for like, the rest of his life…when Kent shifts in his seat and looks at him.

“I’m not going to apologize.”

Bitty blinks at him.

“Just so you, like, know. I know I said some shitty stuff but I’m not going to go say sorry anytime soon.”

Kent looks resigned, and kind of like he expects Bitty to start yelling again. Maybe Bitty would be, if he wasn’t just way too tired for literally any of this.  
He thinks longingly of his bed, and his uncomplicated relationship with Señor Bun, even as he says,  
“Why?”

Kent looks like he’s debating what to say before he sighs, takes his stupid hat off (thank the Lord) and runs his hands through his hair.

“Jack and I were really close, okay? Like really fucking close. But then he…the…well shit went down, and suddenly I had no idea if Zimms was okay, and no one was telling me anything, and I felt like my world was imploding even as I put on my stupid fucking skates, and did camp after stupid camp…”

The words are just tumbling out of Kent now, to the point that Bitty starts to wonder if Kent has ever talked about this to anyone before. The thought makes his heart ache a little.

“I had to find out from the damn tabloids that he was even fucking alive. And I wanted to feel relieved but I just felt so fucking guilty.”

Kent takes a deep breath and suddenly Bitty finds that the focus is all on him.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a cigarette on you would you?”

“Um no?” Bitty shakes his head incredulously. “I don’t, uh, smoke.”

Kent gives a little self deprecating laugh, his head thumping back on his headrest.

“Neither do I.” He gives Bitty a small smirk, looking at him from under his eyelashes. “But it’s not like I can go back in there and get another drink to calm my nerves, right?”

To be honest, Bitty is torn between laughing, and asking if Kent is trying to hit on him.  
Instead he just stares for a bit.

 

“You know, you’re nothing like I expected.”

Kent gives a surprised bark of laughter at Bitty’s words. His smile is small, but almost genuine.

“Yeah? We’ll you’re something else too…Bittle, wasn’t it?”

To Bitty’s utter mortification, he offers Kent freakin’ Parson his hand.

“Eric Bittle. Most call me Bitty, though.”

Thankfully Kent takes and shakes his hand with an amused smile.

“Well, I’m glad to have met you Bitty.”

He drops his hand kind of awkwardly, moving it to comb through his own tousled locks. “So like, you can tell me off if it’s weird, but could I um, get your number or something?”  
Bitty’s hand automatically shifts to touch his phone in his pocket, the weight of it a comfort like it always is.

“My number?”

At Bitty’s shocked tone, Kent shifts in his seat and his eyes drop to the dashboard, steadily avoiding Bitty’s.

“Yeah. I mean you definitely don’t fucking have to or anything, but you’re like…easy to talk to? And seem to be a pretty good friend, and I don’t have many of those an-”  
Kent cuts himself off with a frustrated noise. “Forget it. It was stupid.”

“Give me your phone.”  
“…What?”  
Bitty keeps his palm out, making an exasperated grabbing motion.  
“Give. Me. Your. Phone.”

Kent keeps his bewildered eye contact even as he fishes in his pockets, pulls out a phone, and places it in Bitty’s open palm.  
Bitty breaks eye contact to look at what appears to be the newest iPhone. Of freakin’ course.  
He taps a few keys, takes a quick sub-par selfie, sets it, then hands the phone back with a nod.

“There. That’s my number. Text me whenever, m'kay?” He muffles a yawn behind his hand. “Just like, not tonight? I gotta head to bed.”

Kent is still cradling his phone in his hand like it’s something precious, but he jolts a little when Bitty opens the passenger door.  
He tucks his phone back in his pocket, grabs his hat from the dashboard, and sticks it back on with a shaky grin.

“Yeah okay. Night Bittle.”  
Bitty gives him a half assed tired sunny smile.  
“Night Parson.”

Bitty jogs all the way back to the Haus steps before he hears Kent’s car start up.  
He turns, give a little wave, then opens the door to head inside.

The Epikegster is still in full force, so no one really pays Bitty any attention as he makes his way back through the crowd of partiers. He maneuvers his way past a passed out Lax bro on the stairs, (that poor sucker is going to have a ridiculously realistic dick drawn on his face if his friends don’t move him soon) and heads up to his room.

It’s quieter up here, most of the people know that the bedrooms are off limits.

Bitty’s eyes catch on Jack’s door.  
The door is closed tight, and it looks like all the lights are off. Bitty hovers for a moment, before he sighs and heads into his room.

He strips out of clothes, plugs his phone in, and takes one of those disposable waterless toothbrushes he keeps for moments like this to his drunk breath.  
He tosses the used brush into his trash bin, checks his alarm, then crawls into bed.  
He’s almost asleep when he hears the noise that indicates he’s gotten a text message. He groans, rolls over, and stares blearily at his phone screen.

It’s a text from Kent Parson.

-Hey Bittle, it’s Kent. Anyways here’s my number. Sleep well!-

He signed it with that weird creepy moon emoji.  
Bitty stares a bit longer, then re-locks his phone, places it back on the edge of his desk, and rolls back over bringing his blanket up over his head.  
When did his life get this weird?

_/….\\_

Bitty wakes up to his alarm.  
As well as three more text messages from Kent Parson.

One seems to be a picture message, so he opens that one first.  
It’s a picture of a rather large cat sitting in an open suitcase; it’s grooming itself. Bitty looks at it bewildered for a moment before scrolling down to see the caption.  
-Look at this asshole, I love her so much.-

Huh. Kent has a cat.

Bitty scrolls to see the next messages.

-I just realized you may not even be Bittle. I could totally be texting a fake number rn. Awks.-  
Bitty rolls his eyes. Like he would ever take a selfie for a fake contact. No matter how sub par that selfie may have been.

The next message fits everything he seems to know about Kent Parson.

-Enjoy the free picture of my INSANELY FAMOUS cat, possibly fake number.-  
He even ended that one with various cat and dollar sign emojis.

Bitty opens up the notes on his phone (which is mostly half formed recipes) and types:  
“Kent Parson: bad at following directions”  
As he closes notes, he debates texting back. He ultimately decides not to, taking a bit of dark pleasure in making Kent think he has the wrong number, since he couldn’t be bothered to TEXT BITTY IN THE MORNING LIKE BITTY POLITELY ASKED HIM TO.

With a heaving sigh Bitty finally gets out of bed.  
He pulls on some shorts and a Samwell hoodie before grabbing his headphones and heading downstairs.  
It’s quiet in the Haus, the type of quiet only achieved by half of the occupants being hungover. Bitty sends a quick thankful prayer that he seems to be immune to hangovers, regardless of what he drinks. He opens up a playlist titled “Morning After” which was originally a cleaning playlist before he realized the utter devastation that epikegsters left behind. Plopping in his headphones, pushing up his hoodie sleeves, he gives a determined nod and gets to work.

He’s two trash bags of solo cups (and a truly questionable plastic bag of…something…that he picked up with a stray hockey stick before carefully scooping it into the trash bag) when his text notification interrupts the Avril song playing. He swipes his phone open without looking.

Oh.  
It’s Kent.  
Again.

-It occurred to me that you may be Bittle, random number, and you’re just hungover or like, sleeping-  
Bittle rolls his eyes. Another text comes in.  
-BUT IF UR NOT, I am totally not famous. Only my cat is.-  
A string of the sunglasses emoji smirking follows.

Bittle is starting to regret every drunk choice he has ever made ever.

He goes to lock his phone back, continuing to passive aggressively ignore Kent Parson and his ridiculous emojis when another text comes in.

-U have ur read receipts on, random #-  
A bunch of side eye emojis follow as Bitty’s stomach drops to his knees. He totally forgot he still had that on. He leans against the wall and takes a deep breath.  
He’s debating if that makes ignoring Parson on purpose better or worse when another text comes in.  
-starting to feel a bit ignored here-

 

He sent the fucking cat crying emoji.  
Bitty quickly goes to reply.

-TRYING to clean here, Parson-  
Send.  
-Do you have no respect for after epikegster rituals?-  
Send.

Bitty is in the middle of turning off his read receipts when he gets a reply.  
-Since you know my name I’m guessing you’re Bittle. Sweet.-  
Another text notification.  
-I have respect for NOTHING. Gawd, it’s like u don’t even know me.-

Bittle rolls his eyes, makes it so his text notification won’t interrupt his playlist again, before hitting play and replying.  
-I kinda don’t-  
He manages to tie off the trash bags and start a third before a reply comes in.  
-thats fair-

What is he supposed to say to that? Bitty ignores it and continues to clean. The kitchen is just starting to look habitable again when a text comes in.  
-How are we gonna play this?-

Bitty pauses and sends a string of question marks. The reply is immediate.

-I mean, how do people become friends??-

Bitty smirks to himself as he sends an old school shrug emoji. He tucks his phone in his pocket as he starts a pancake batter. He’s halfway through a song and two pancakes in when he thinks to check his phone again.

-I feel like you’re chirping me.-  
He makes up a tray of bacon, puts it in the oven and sets a timer. Two minutes later is another text.  
-ur totally chirping me rn-

Bitty flips a pancake.  
A minute after that a bunch of random emojis that makes Bitty get the feeling Kent is exasperated with him. He grins to himself as he types.

-Sorry making pancakes!-

Once again, the reply is immediate.

-yeah whatevs. Pics or it didn’t happen.-  
Bitty makes a few more so that the stack looks suitably impressive before taking a picture and sending it. He gets a string of texts.

-bro.  
I’m like, jealous rn  
I gotta find a waffle house now.  
NO WAIT  
I NEED AN IHOP. STAT.-

Bitty flips a pancake and types out,

-You’re way weirder than I expected-

He sends it before he can over think it.

-Says the guy cleaning up after a KEGSTER and making motherfucking food channel level pancakes-

He rolls his eyes and purposely finishes off what’s left of the pancake batter before deigning that with a response.  
-Go find an IHOP and leave me be, Parson-

Kent sends back a shocked emoji before another onslaught of texts roll in.

-THE NERVE.  
I THINK I WILL JUST TO SPITE YOU  
AND UR PANCAKES-

Bitty has the absurd urge to laugh, which he suppresses so he doesn’t burn himself taking the bacon out of Betsy as the timer beeps. He places the tray of enough bacon to feed a hungover hockey team on top of the stove then replies.

-enjoy your sub par pancakes-

He goes to sign it with a smiley face, then adds an angel for good measure.

-I will, thank you  
#PANCAKESORBUST-

Bitty rolls his eyes, getting out some syrup and butter.  
Kent Parson is not quite what he expected, but he finds that he no longer regrets his impulsive drunk decision to follow Parson out of the party last night. Even if it did lead to what has to be one of the weirdest text conversations he’s had.

He has just enough time to save Kent’s number as ‘KP *cat emoji*’ before Holster barrels into the kitchen.  
He looks like he’s wearing one of the curtains Bitty got as a toga;Bitty wishes that this is the first time those poor curtains have been used as such. He takes his headphones out, because he’s polite thank you very much, as Holster looks like he’s going to string words together.

“BRO. Are those after-kegster pancakes??”

Bitty rolls his eyes but continues laying everything out. “Yes Holster, I made pancakes.”

Holster’s eyes get comically big before he turns his head and yells, “BITS MADE AFTER-KEGSTER PANCAKES!!”

Bitty hears a series of loud thumps that sound suspiciously like 200lb guys falling out of their beds before the responding call of Shitty echoes through the Haus.

“BITS YOU BEAUTIFUL MOTHERFUCKER, I LOVE YOU!!”

Bitty locks his phone, and says goodbye to his peaceful morning with a fond smile.

_/=\\_


	2. Foolish Behavior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Look, I am obsessed with any and all Kent and Bitty interaction. So have them being frankly adorable nerds. Also Jack makes an actual appearance in this one?  
> Ground-breaking.

The next few days of Bitty's life fall almost routine.  
He bakes, the team chirp each other mercilessly (Lardo is leading when it comes to number of chirps most devastating), Jack is withdrawn a few days but soon seems to go back to his normal self before anyone but Bitty notices.

And Bitty texts Kent Parson.  
It's a strange thing to be on a daily text basis with Kent, but Bitty finds that he likes it. Their schedules don't quite sync with Las Vegas being three hours behind, but they somehow always manage to hold some type of conversation everyday without fail.

Bitty learns that Kent is obsessed with his cat, which he rescued on a roadie. It was almost enough to warm Bittys heart; until he found out that Kent named the poor darling a pun after his own name.  
-Her name is Kit Purrson?-  
-yeah-  
-.....like Katy Perry?-  
-EXACTLY LIKE KATY PERRY-  
Bitty ignores the string of grinning emojis and just accepts that Kent will always be weird.

_/=\\_

It takes a week and a half, but one day Bitty checks his twitter after class and sees that Kent has followed him, liking the picture of them at the beginning of the Epikegster which somehow feels like it happened years ago.  
It's an odd experience to have an actual verified twitter follow him. Bitty finds himself staring at the little blue check before he scrolls down to read any tweets.

Kent mostly tweets about team stuff, what games the Ace's have, how practice went, anecdotes of things teammates do. But interspersed with hockey are little snippets of Kent's life that Bitty finds himself fixated on.

Kent makes a point to try a new restaurant in every city the team plays in. He tweets eloquent descriptions that honestly could be straight from the many foodie magazines Bitty reads instead of his textbooks.  
Every dish gets a decently framed Instagram photo that makes Bitty quickly click the links for. He hits follow and switches back to twitter before he let's himself get too distracted.

Kent tweets an occasional song lyric. Bitty only knows that they're lyrics because he finds himself recognizing most of the songs as stuff he listens to.  
Bitty smirks to himself when he sees a lyric from 'Diva' by Beyonce.

Sometimes Kent just tweets a series of emojis. Unsurprisingly.

What's also unsurprising are the pictures of Kit captioned with 'literal angel' and various heart emojis. Bitty clicks one that shows Kit glaring at the camera. Which Bitty is starting to think is normal behavior of her. Either way she seems to have a lot of fans if the number of replies are anything to go off of. Including one from...

Wait.

No fucking way.

The noise that comes out of Bitty's mouth makes Jack look up from where they were sharing a quiet table at Annie's.

"Bittle?" Jack tilts his head like he's a German Shepard and any other moment Bitty would take a moment to coo and aw over him.  
But right now Bitty is a man on a mission that not even Jack's adorable awkwardness can deter him from. 

He waves Jack's curiosity off with one hand as he opens up his and Kent's text convo and starts typing a mile a minute. 

-DO YOU KNOW TAYLOR SWIFT????-

He stares at the phone until it vibrates in his hand.

-yeah. Tswift and I are cat bros.-

Bitty slowly lowers the phone face down on the table. He meets Jack's eyes. His sad blue eyes look concerned. Bitty stands up suddenly, his latte all but forgotten.

"I have to make a phone call. I'll be right back."

He grabs his phone and heads out of Annie's, his thumb already hitting the call button. The phone only rings three times before Bitty hears the click that signifies someone answered. The words spill out before he can stop them.

"I cannot believe that you know Taylor Swift. That you have actual honest to god conversations with her. Lord have Mercy, have you met her???"

Bitty pauses to take a breath and hears Kent's warm voice from the other side of the line.

"Hey Bitty."

Bitty finds himself flushing red and starts to fidget. From the moment he heard Kent's voice he was struck with the realization that he just called Kent Freaking Parson.

Who he had only been on a strictly texting basis for maybe two weeks tops.

"Oh Lord, I am so sorry. I just called you out of the blue without even knowing what you're up to! You must be fit to be tied with me!"

Kent's laughter cuts off his rambling.

"Bittle! Bitty! It's fine, I was just getting out of a team meeting. I wouldn't have answered if I was busy."

Bitty takes a deep breath and let's it out slowly.

"Yeah?" His voice sounds small and hesitant.

"Yeah, Bitty." Kent sounds amused and all the tension slides out of Bitty's shoulders.

"Okay. Okay, good."  
"So..."  
"So..?"  
"You really don't think I'm cool enough to be cat bros with TSwift?"

It startles a burst of laughter from Bitty's chest.

"I am in shock, mostly. But to be fair, you are the first verified twitter to ever follow me."

Kent laughs and it's a such a warm sound that Bitty finds himself smiling.

"Yeah, PR made me verify it after I started tweeting about teammates. But I swear I totally know TSwift. We met at some party a year ago."

Bitty grins, kind of stuck in this state of disbelief. 

"I bet you spent the whole time talking about Kit."  
"...I know you're probably chirping me right now... But I legit totally did."

This guy. Freaking Parson. 

"I'm not even surprised. Of course you two bonded."  
"Do you know how to not chirp?"  
"Nope!" He pops the p loud and clear and Kent huffs a laugh.

"Tell me about your day, Bitty."

Bitty pauses, hand frozen with the phone at his ear.

"You're not busy? You have to know I can get a ramblin'."  
"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't mean it."

Freaking. Parson.

"Okay, well I had practice earlier and then classes..."

Bitty talks about various things for about 20 minutes before he catches Jack from the corner of his eyes heading his way.

"Um, Kent, I gotta get going."  
"Oh. Yeah okay. I'm back at my place anyway. I should probably pay Kit some attention."

Kent sounds like he's chill, but Bitty thinks he can recognize a front when he hears one. He let's his voice go soft like he's talking to one of his frogs.

"I really enjoyed talking to you, sug."

A soft sound echoes across the receiver and Bitty can't tell if its a sigh or something else.

"Me too, Bitty. It was nice." A short pause. "Even if you spent half the time chirping the life out of me."

Bitty rolls his eyes just as Jack steps out and gives him a questioning look. Bitty smiles at him and Jack's eyes get a bit lighter.

"Text me later?"  
"Yeah, I'll text you after I deal with Kit."  
"Sounds good to me! Bye!"  
"Bye Bitty."

The line goes dead; Bitty puts his phone away, and turns to smile at Jack.

Jack smiles back.

_/=\\_

After Bitty and Jack walk back to the Haus, they spend a couple hours in the kitchen together. Bitty bakes while Jack reads some kind of history book and occasionally chirps Bitty over something small. 

It’s a nice quiet type of coexistence that makes Bitty feel warm and fulfilled in a way that he doesn’t really want to dwell on or examine. He’d rather just let himself enjoy what he can have instead of focus on what he knows is so far out of reach it’s not even funny.

They end up moving to the living room after a few pies are done to watch Rans and Holts play some video games, Jack sitting in the armchair with Bitty balanced on the arm. The Frogs end up taking over when Ransom remembers he has reading to complete and proceeds to have a minor freak out. Bitty very blantly ignores his own reading he has yet to complete.

The night is quiet and low key and Bitty forgets to check his phone until he’s getting ready for bed and reaches for his charger.

Kent had followed him back on Instagram. The first picture on Bitty’s feed is of Kit with only the hashtag “#Queen” as the caption. Bitty bites back a smile and checks his messages.

-Kit is POed that I tried to feed her tuna instead of salmon.  
I can’t even with this  
why must she take after me and long for the finer things in life-

A bunch of the sighing emojis follow.

-hope ur night is chill-  
That was at 10. Bitty glances at the clock, sees it’s only 11 and goes to reply. Before he can even get two words typed in his phone blows up with notifications. 

**@kpofficial has liked your photo**

**@kpofficial has liked your photo**

**@kpofficial has liked your photo**

Huh. Kent is apparently stalking his Instagram. Somehow Bitty is unsurprised. Despite the amount of chill Kent Parson appears to give off, Bitty is quickly realizing that no chill is to be found when it comes to Kent Parson.

**@kpofficial has liked your photo**

Oh.

Kent has found the months old snaps Bitty posted. What can he say? His thighs looked killer in those red shorts. His phone buzzes in his hand.

-Bittle!  
BitTY!!  
BITS!!!!  
YOU DIDN’T TELL ME YOU HAD A SNAPCHAT-

Bitty rolls his eyes and types back.

-you didn’t tell me you're a social media stalker.-

-INSULTED HERE.  
I INVENTED INTERNET STALKING-

A sunglasses smiley emoji. A crown emoji. The plug emoji?

Someone take the emoji keyboard away from Kent Parson. Bitty lays back in his bed and gets comfortable.

-going to bed now, Parson.-

-BITTY NO  
SNAPCHAT  
I NEED THE SNAPCHAT BITS-

And capslock. Bitty is going to take the emoji keyboard and capslock away from Kent. The world will be a better place. He’s practically going to be doing a public service.

He sends a bunch of sleeping z emojis. Because despite how tired he is, sass rests for no one.

Kent replies with a bunch of frown emojis. Then a bunch of sigh emojis. Finally Bitty gets a message with words.

-Ok ok. Night Bits.-  
He signs it with camping emoji. And that creepy moon emoji.

Bitty smiles fondly.

-Goodnight.-

He pauses.

-It’s omgitserb-

Kent sends every color heart emoji.

**kitiscoolerthanme has added you on SnapChat!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I'm naming each chapter after Neon Trees songs. No I'm not even sorry.   
> Come talk to me about this fic that has overtaken my whole life at cutie-lou-who.tumblr.com


	3. Our War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote a whole chapter in Kent's pov because I love dying and being dead.  
> Oh my poor angsty trash son, how I love thee.

_/=\\_

Kent Parson wakes up at 3 am with his heart in his throat choking his fast breathing. 

He sits up quickly, head in his hands, trying desperately to steady his breathing like he know he should fucking do. God, he should be able to do this. Why won’t his breathing fucking chill? Fuck fuck fuck, he can’t even do this ri-

Kit hops up into bed, and with a quiet meow buts her head right in between his hands.  
Kent takes a deep breath.

Slowly he untangles his fingers from his hair to address Kit’s repetitive head butting. She purrs at him as soon as his fingers gently pet her head and he feels like he can breath again.

In. Out.

He focuses on banishing the nightmare of his father’s hands, harsh and unmoving. Focuses on banishing the afterimage that was his father’s face turning into Jack’s the moment his back hit the wall. One push had morphed into another in his subconscious even though they were nothing alike; Kent curses the universe for creating his mess of a mind.

In. Out. In.

It has been 6 years since he’s seen his father, even longer since he’s talked to him, yet Kent raises his hand to run it through his hair and finds that it’s shaking.  


He hates this. 

He hates almost everything except Kit purring in his lap, to be honest. 

His mind goes back to the snapshot of Jack’s face as he pushed Kent away after Kent had been stupid enough to whisper ‘I miss you’ into their kiss. It has been just past two weeks since his back hit the wall of Jack’s bedroom, yet Jack’s ‘You always say that’ still echoes in his head.

His hands shake.

Kent gently moves Kit off his lap and goes to get out of bed. He knows from experience that sleep won’t come again. If he can just get to the gym that is open to all the tenets in his building he can pretend that his thready thrumming pulse is just from working out. He pads over to his dresser, reaches into the bottom drawer for a thin workout hoodie to go with his sleep sweats. He almost gets the sleeve on.

He is hit with a wave of his father’s cologne mixed with stale beer. His head swims and he stumbles even as he throws the hoodie across the room.

Nearly everything in his Vegas penthouse is new. There is no way anything can smell like his father. His father has never been here. Never touched any of his stuff.  
His mind is playing tricks. Dirty, underhanded tricks.

No matter how many times he tries to repeat that to himself he can tell it’s not working. He takes a shaky breath, he clenches his hands into fists to pretend they don’t shake.  
He needs-

Fuck, he needs to hurt.

But there isn’t any practice until hours from now, he can't find it in himself to head to a shady club, and his building disapproves of people walking around shirtless even though it’s in the middle of Las fucking Vegas; and there’s no way he can even try to reach for any clothes. He closes his eyes tightly and breaths out through his nose. He ignores the urge to go get the bottle of expensive vodka from above his fridge. Carefully, he un-tenses his muscles one by one. 

A bath. He’ll take a bath.

Kent has an absurdly big bathtub detached from the shower. If he’s honest with himself, it was the tub which could easily fit two hockey players that made his choice of getting his penthouse. Well, that and the living room with one way floor to ceiling windows.

But mostly it was the tub.

He turns the water on as hot as it will go, doesn’t bother with any of his fancy bath stuff that he saves for after games or particularly harsh practices. He strips out of his sleep sweats carelessly, hands rough with his own body, nails catching over skin. He stands there naked, staring as the tub fills. 

Fuck, why does it take so long to fucking fill? He can’t deal with the noise inside his head.  
He pads back to his room and yanks his phone from the charger. 

He unlocks it quickly, desperate for distraction. Kit winds herself around his ankles lazily as he stands on the bathroom tile. The rush of water filling the tub is making him twitchy so Kent flicks through to put on the playlist he uses as white noise. Beat spills out tinny from his phone speakers and he relaxes his shoulders. 

The bath is only half full.

Kent taps his phone against his forehead, eyes closed, trying to think of another distraction from the way his skin feels tight around his hollow feeling chest. He pauses.

Bitty. 

He’ll text Bitty. 

Bitty will ramble about some pie, or some teammate, or chirp Kent good-heartedly and Kent will be able to just let the stream that is Bitty quality sunshine wash over him.

Except that it’s barely 3:30 am. 

Even with the three hour time difference 6 am is still too early to text Bitty unless he want’s Bitty being concerned and suspicious about why he is up so god damn early.

He glances at the tub. The water looks like it’s barely raised. He turns off the hot water and switches it to cold when he sees that it’s steaming.

Twitter.

Kent will find Bitty on twitter. Didn’t Bitty say he had one?  
Kent’s gonna find it. 

His determination to find Bitty’s twitter distracts him from the itching of his skin. It takes him maybe five minutes of dedication before he finds it. He scrolls through it, reading bits and pieces of Bitty’s life before he comes across a picture.  
It’s of him.  
With Bitty.

They apparently took a selfie together that night. 

Kent stares at it for a while before he saves it to his phone. He closes twitter, turns his music up, locks his phone, and sets it on the table next to the bath that he keeps various magazines.

The tub is pretty much full now. He turns the water off, steps inside. He feels his whole body relax as the hot water stings his skin wherever it touches. He sinks into it inch by inch, watching in perverse satisfaction the way his skin turns red instantly with the heat. 

It’s almost what he needs.

He lowers himself into the water, closing his eyes, submerging his head. He listens to the way his music gets louder in the water before it fades away like everything seems to do.  
His body is surrounded by heat that is as uncomfortable as it is satisfying. He stays under until his lungs tighten and his mind narrows then blanks.

He can’t breath. He can’t- 

 

_‘Why are you crying? I’ll give you something to cry about!'_

 

Kent breaks through the water with a deep breath that fills every hollow echo inside his chest.

_/=\\_

Kent doesn’t hear from Bitty until after the Aces’ team meeting after a particularly grueling practice. 

He had gone straight to his buildings gym after his bath, making sure Kit had food in between tugging on exercise clothes he didn’t pay attention to. He had put himself through his routine while watching tape from the team’s last game, forming critics and drills in his head. 

He was still off and restless when ice time had rolled around and the result was him running the team hard and fast through all the drills he had conceptualized while working out.  
He’s just walking out of the rink, body pleasantly sore when the text from Bitty comes through.

-DO YOU KNOW TAYLOR SWIFT????-

Kent feels a shadow of a grin flit across his face for the first time all morning. He quickly responds.

-yeah. Tswift and I are cat bros.-

He waits for a reply to come through but after a minute passes he shrugs and starts the walk back to his place. Which is conveniently ten minutes tops from the rink.  
Not that he planned that of course.

He’s probably two minutes in when his phone rings. He looks at it confused before seeing that it’s Bitty. He smirks to himself as he swipes to answer and brings it up to his ear.

"I cannot believe that you know Taylor Swift. That you have actual honest to god conversations with her. Lord have Mercy, have you met her???"

Bitty’s voice washes over him before he even has a chance to say hello. Kent feels his mouth turn up into a smile.

"Hey Bitty."

There is a brief pause from the other end before Bitty replies.

"Oh Lord, I am so sorry. I just called you out of the blue without even knowing what you're up to! You must be fit to be tied with me!"

It’s said in a rush of a southern accent and the incredulous laugh breaks free before Kent can stop it.

"Bittle! Bitty! It's fine, I was just getting out of a team meeting. I wouldn't have answered if I was busy."

He manages to choke out between his chuckles. He hears Bitty take a deep breath on the other side of the line. 

"Yeah?" His voice sounds small and hesitant.

Kent is having trouble keeping the smile from his lips. 

"Yeah, Bitty."  
"Okay. Okay, good."

Kent shakes his head in amusement.

"So..." He prompts.  
"So..?"

This. Kid.

Kent turns his voice teasing in what he hopes is an echo of the way Bitty chirps him over text.

"You really don't think I'm cool enough to be cat bros with TSwift?"

It startles a burst of laughter from Bitty that makes Kent’s chest feel floaty.

"I am in shock, mostly. But to be fair, you are the first verified twitter to ever follow me."

Kent laughs loudly enough that a person turns to glance at him as they walk by. Kent rolls his eyes at them. C’mon, this is Vegas. He bets he is the least weird thing on this sidewalk.

"Yeah, PR made me verify it after I started tweeting about teammates. But I swear I totally know TSwift. We met at some party a year ago."  
He hopes he doesn’t sound braggy. Kinda.

"I bet you spent the whole time talking about Kit."

Kent pauses at the response.  
"...I know you're probably chirping me right now... But I legit totally did."

"I'm not even surprised. Of course you two bonded."  
"Do you know how to not chirp?"  
"Nope!"

He pops the p loud and clear and Kent huffs a laugh. He looks up and sees his building’s door a hundred feet away. His stomach drops a little when he thinks of his empty apartment, only Kit waiting for him. He does what he’s best at and makes an impulsive decision.

"Tell me about your day, Bitty."

 

"You're not busy? You have to know I can get a ramblin'."

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't mean it."  
He nods at the door man as he flashes his key card at the reader. Owen nods back.

"Okay, well I had practice earlier and then classes..."  
Bitty starts and Kent lets the chatter wash over him as he heads up to his penthouse. He makes idle responses as he opens the door with his key card and drops his hockey bag as he closes the door behind him.

He bends down to pet Kit before heading to his beaten up couch. Bitty talks about his life and classes and everything in between; Kent leans his head back, closes his eyes, and breaths.

Suddenly there is a lag that makes Kent open his eyes and stop drifting as he took in everything Bitty had been saying.

"Um, Kent, I gotta get going."

Kent glances at the clock on his DVR to see 20 minutes had passed.

"Oh. Yeah okay. I'm back at my place anyway. I should probably pay Kit some attention."

It’s a shoddy lie considering Kit had hopped into his lap shortly after he sat down and had begun purring away. But Bitty didn’t have to know that. He hopes his tone covers up the fact that he really doesn’t want to Bitty to stop talking.

"I really enjoyed talking to you, sug."

Bitty’s voice is soft and affectionate and it catches Kent off guard with the amount of longing it evokes in him.  
He can’t remember the last time anyone but his mom or sister had spoken to him in such a sweet tone.

"Me too, Bitty. It was nice." 

He can hear how thick his voice is and he pauses to quickly find a way to divert this conversation from his stupid overwhelming emotion.

"Even if you spent half the time chirping the life out of me."  
"Text me later?"

Bitty’s voice is back to normal and Kent breathes a silent sigh of relief even as he ignores the way his stomach swoops.

"Yeah, I'll text you after I deal with Kit."  
"Sounds good to me! Bye!"  
"Bye Bitty."

The call feels over just as sudden as it started to Kent. 

He glances at where Kit is purring away in his lap before he shrugs and tosses his phone on the couch cushion next to him.

“Well, you hungry Princess?”

Kit opens one eye at him as her ear twitches.  
Kent takes that as a yes.

He uses the familiar motions of taking care of Kit to ignore the way he knows he’ll be surfing through Bitty’s twitter later.

He pets Kit once as he puts the can of tuna she didn’t want when salmon was an option into his fridge.

“I’m a mess, aren’t I, sweetheart?”

Kit meows once and Kent finds himself smiling.  
_/=\\_

He texts Bitty like he promised, but he doesn’t get a reply. He ignores the little voice in the back of his head that whispers dark things and instead queues up his Netflix.

He get’s sucked into his tv shows, pausing only to play with Kit and order some Thai food. His beaten up couch maybe ugly as sin, but nothing truly supports his binge watching like the worn cushions.  
He finishes a whole season before he decides to call it a night. He sends a quick text to Bitty.  
-hope ur night is chill-

It’s only when he’s lying in bed, scrolling through his phone even though it’s plugged in that he wanders back to surfing through Bitty’s twitter.

He had been laying in bed for over an hour before he even opened Twitter so he thought he deserved the virtual pat on the back he gave himself.  
But now here he is, months deep in Bitty’s tweets, trying desperately not to accidently like anything months old like some type of creep.

His thumb freezes over his phone.

Holy shit.  
Bittle has an Instagram.

Kent opens the link and hits the follow button with something that can only be described as pure glee.

He has so few images of Bitty that he finds himself relying on his shifty memory and a selfie from a kegster. But no more.

Kent Parson has hit the motherload.  
The small, cute, blonde motherload.

Oh he is so fucked.  
He scrolls with reckless abandon seeing various shots of teammates, pies that look way too fucking good to be real, and endless selfies captioned with Beyonce lyrics.

Fuck it.  
Some of these are masterpieces that deserved to be liked. 

Kent throws caution to the wind, stops looking at upload dates, and just starts abusing the like button.

Cute pic of what looks like a campus? Like.  
Oh, an apple pie that literally makes Kent’s mouth water? Like.  
A pic of the Samwell team goofing off on the ice? Hell yeah, like.

Oh. That selfie.  
Wait? Can it be considered a selfie if it’s from SnapChat and just of Bitty’s legs?  


Who cares, his thighs. Holy mother of god, Bittle’s thighs. 

Those red shorts should be illegal.  
To distract himself Kent opens up his texts and sends a barrage of messages to Bitty.

-Bittle!  
BitTY!!  
BITS!!!!  
YOU DIDN’T TELL ME YOU HAD A SNAPCHAT-

He gets a reply almost instantly. Whoops. He hadn’t expected that.

-you didn’t tell me you're a social media stalker.-

Kent rolls his eyes even though he knows it’s true.

-INSULTED HERE.  
I INVENTED INTERNET STALKING-  
He emojis that bitch and sends it off.

-going to bed now, Parson.-

Kent furiously texts back, determined that Bitty pays some type of penance for those red shorts.

-BITTY NO  
SNAPCHAT  
I NEED THE SNAPCHAT BITS-

If Bitty’s snap story has more of the same images than Kent most definitely needs it in his life.  
Bitty sends him a bunch of sleeping z emojis. Kent is impressed and irritated. The sass on this kid, seriously. Kent replies with a bunch of frown emojis. Then a bunch of sigh emojis.

-Ok ok. Night Bits.-  
He signs it with camping emoji. And his favorite moon emoji.  
-Goodnight.-

Kent stares at his phone for a little while, wondering if he can just search Bittle’s number on SnapChat and get more itty bitty red shorts in his life.  
Then his phone buzzes.

-It’s omgitserb-

Oh bless the universe and everything in it.  
Kent quickly sends off every heart emoji he sees before opening SnapChat and searching the username ‘omgitserb’.  
There.  
If Bitty’s Instagram was the motherload, then Kent is sure that this snap story is going to be his Holy Grail.

**You have followed omgitserb!**

Kent locks his phone and sets it on his side table. He falls asleep with a small smile.

_/=\\_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Talk to me about this au and my trash son kp at cutie-lou-who.tumblr.com


	4. Unavoidable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay y'all I finally got around to an update. Let's have some more angsty KP.

When Kent Parson realizes he’s falling in love with Eric Bittle he drops his phone.

“Fuck!”

Swoops looks at him with a raised eyebrow, and Kent tries to school his expression into something that doesn’t scream ‘I just realized I’m in love with someone who could never love me back. Again.’. He doesn’t quite know if he succeeds, but Swoops’ eyebrow at least goes down.

“Bro. Seriously? It’s bad enough that you put that ugly cat case on your fucking rose gold iphone, but now you gotta almost drop it off the bleachers? That phone deserves better, man.”

Kent turns his cap around so the brim covers his face, even as he rubs the screen of his phone against his jeans.

“Shut the fuck up man and watch the game. There’s no way you can watch this B-Ball and chirp me at the same time. Your game on the ice says you don’t have that attention span.”

Swoops rolls his eyes.  
“Man. No one calls it fucking B-ball. Stop being such an obvious nerd.”

Luckily Swoops goes back to watching the game after his subpar chirp, and Kent proceeds to return to his freaking out.  
Internally of course.

Okay, so like, he knows logically that he was doomed to fall for Bittle. Like, the fates probably predestined it or something because Kent’s life has been going pretty smooth lately. Sure he sometimes drinks a whole bottle of wine in a night, and sure he wakes up gasping for air every so often, but really. His life has been going pretty great if he says so himself.

But that probably has something to do with the fact that he now has regular phone calls with Bitty.

He doesn’t know how he let it get this bad.

After that first phone call he thought he could keep everything under control. But that phone call turned into snap streaks that lasted days. It turned into texts far past the bedtime he set for himself after he made Captain. That phone call turned into a weekly phone call. And then a multiple times a week phone call.  
Honestly it is a true testament to his will power that they haven’t graduated onto skype calls yet.

Kent leans forward in his seat, hoping that he’s looking interested in the game instead of restraining himself from putting his face in his hands and screaming.  
He can’t be in love with Bitty. Or like, almost in love with Bitty. 

For fuck’s sake, he can’t have any strong emotions beyond platonic friendship for Bitty.

Because he’s pretty sure Bitty is hooking up with Jack.

He’s also pretty sure that Bitty is head over heels for Jack. How does he know? Because he’s fucking been there. He’s fucking been where Bitty is, and he’s been trying to figure out for the past three weeks if he should try and confront Bitty about his obvious love for Jack Fucking Zimmermann.   
Because Kent has been there, and fuck, if Bitty is even half as in love with Jack as Kent thinks he is, then Bitty is screwed. 

Track record shows that Zimms has a way of breaking blondes.

His hand twitches as his phone buzzes and Kent very decidedly slides the damn thing into his pocket instead of looking at it. He knows it’s Bitty, knows that he just finished his little coffee date that he doesn’t explicitly says is with Jack but Kent knows is anyway.  
He glances up at the clock.

Fuck he still has nearly half of this game to go.

Taking a deep breath Kent slams the door shut on his feelings and puts all the focus on having some bro time with Swoops.  
Hopefully Jeff hasn’t figured him out enough to know when Kent is faking it.

_/=\\_

Kent doesn’t get back to his condo until late, and he knows without looking that he’s probably missed at least two calls from Bitty, and a half a dozen texts.

He doesn’t look.

Instead Kent puts his phone face down on the counter and goes for the vodka he knows he has stashed in the back of his freezer.

Him and Swoops had went to the bar after the game, but they only had a couple of beers. Swoops was low-key like that, which is normally something Kent really likes about him.  
But tonight Kent has way too many emotions to be low-key about literally anything.

He unscrews the cap of his vodka and takes an ice cold swig straight from the bottle. The cold slide of it burns a path right through his lungs and heart. Kent kicks off his shoes, unbuttons his jeans and starts walking towards his bathtub, bottle gripped loosely in his hand. He knows from experience that if he starts this kind of self destructive drinking in the bathroom, there will be less mess to handle in the morning. 

A bitter laugh breaks through him and he lets the self deprecating smile that’s been tugging at his lips finally form.

Leave it to him to fall for Bitty, who is already so into Jack of all people to ever see Kent as an option. 

He takes another swig of his vodka, lives for the way the burn lights him up from the inside. Kent makes sure to kick off his tight jeans before sliding down the wall of his bathroom. Kit comes up and curls next to him, and Kent runs a hand through his hair, dislodging his cap. 

“Hey princess. Did ya hear? Daddy’s a total fuck-up.” He snorts and takes another swig. He idly wonders if he can finish this whole bottle. He idly wonders when he realized this was reckless behavior yet still let himself do it.

He closes his eyes, let’s his head thump against the wall behind him, and stops feeling for a little while

_/=\\_

When Kent wakes up his hangover isn’t nearly as bad as he thought it would be. When he stumbles into the kitchen to get a gatorade he realizes that’s probably because he slept until nearly one o’ clock. 

Figures.  
He drinks his gatorade in the middle of his kitchen, shirtless and pantless, and eyes his phone on the counter.  
It has to be dead by now right?

With a deep fortifying breath he reaches out and flips it over. And then snatches his hand back like it’s a bomb.

With morbid curiosity he leans over and slowly hits the home button.  
The phone lights up.

It’s only surviving on 15% but it’s not dead yet. Kent rolls his eyes. Of course he can feel half dead and his stupid iphone would live on.   
Of.   
Course.

He runs his hand through his hair, tosses the bottle of gatorade vaguely towards his sink, and picks up his phone. 

With a quick swipe he unlocks it and faces the consequences of his emotions.

He has five missed calls. Four of them are from Bitty, the last from his PR person. He rolls his eyes at that, he hasn’t even tweeted in like...twelve hours at least. No way he’s in trouble. Instead he stares at the blinking voicemail icon.

Bitty left a voicemail. On top of his twelve something texts. With a shaking hand Kent clicks it to listen.

‘Hey Kent? I think this is the first time I’ve ever gotten your voicemail...it’s a lot more professional than I expected to be honest…’  
A soft awkward giggle that still fills Kent’s chest up with warmth despite how much he hates himself for the reaction.  
‘Anyway, I called earlier but you didn’t answer? So I thought maybe you were busy...buy ya didn’t answer any texts and...well I didn’t hear from ya all night. Are you...Are you okay, hun?’

Kent’s heart thumps in his chest. Bitty cares about him. Bitty was worried. Bitty called to check up on hi-  
Kent shakes his head to get a grip on himself. He needs to stop projecting. He knows he’s bad for doing that and he can’t just infuse Bitty’s care with feelings that don’t exist. Bitty is a caring person. He’d probably check up on any of his friends.

‘Well, I really hope ya give me a call back at least. Or like, a text maybe? Shoot. I’m probably all worried for nuthin; but still. Call me?’

The message cuts out just like that and Kent resists the urge to replay it just to hear Bitty’s voice.

 

Fuck, he’s in deep.

_/=\\_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like always I've named this chapter after a Neon Trees song. Eventually I'm going to run out of songs...but until then...  
> Also this should probably be longer, but I have work in the morning, so this is all y'all are getting.


	5. Show

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I know you all thought this story had died a sad little death that all unfinished works do, but here's another chapter!  
> My laptop had finally bit the dust, but for Christmas I got a sweet little Fire! So I bought a wireless keyboard and here we are! Actually reading another chapter of my baby BittyParse fic!  
> Ah, life is good.  
> Anyway, enjoy!

_X_

 

Bitty is so fucking stupid for being this worried.

That's what he tells himself anyway. He ignores that he's baked two pies (apple and cherry), three batches of cookies (a maple molasses that came out so chewy he scraped them, a classic chocolate chip to help him feel better about that fail of a maple cookie, and a lemon poppy seed that Lardo proceeded to take the whole batch of), and that poor Betsy looks like she's going to fitz out on him at any moment.

He is not worried. Nope. Not at all. 

Who would be worried that the guy he's starting to have confusing feelings for hasn't contacted him in hours suddenly and out of nowhere? Not Eric Richard Bittle that's who. 

Fuck.

He's so worried.

He's twisted this damn dish towel around his hands so much that even Ransom has looked up from his textbook to watch Bitty's slow descent into madness.

Bitty throws the towel towards the sink suddenly enough that at least three people jump.  
"I-I am going to my room! Homework ya know?" He manages to squeak out before checking that his phone is in his pocket and rushing up the stairs.

Right before he closes his door he hears Holster voice boom from down the stairs.

"Man, is like, Bitty okay? Bro got some mad homework stress going down."

Bitty flops face first on his bed, burying his face into Senor Bun's stomach.  
Oh god, if they only knew.

_X_

 

Bitty ends up leaving a voicemail. On top of several text messages. 

Because he's pathetic.

He had a brief moment when he woke up and thought 'No, I was chill. I did not leave an embarrassing voicemail in Kent Freaking Parson's voicemail box'. But then he realized that nope, he really did that. And yep. All those text messages were still there.

Bitty's a fucking moron. 

He's ruined everything. 

He has to have. He was clingy and needy and oh god why did he think weekly phone calls would mean anything to Kent Parson.

Kent Parson who talks to Taylor Swift about their mutual cats.

Why does he do this?  
Why does he project his feelings onto straight boys??  
Why does he feel so deeply for guys so insanely out of his league? 

He thought he was coming to terms with his hopeless crush on Jack, thought he could handle being JUST good friends...but no. It looks like he just transfered all his hopeless feelings onto yet another hockey prodigy.

 

No. That's not fair; he didn't transfer anything. He fell for Kent Parson over endless text conversations that faded long into the night. He fell for Kent Parson over weekly phone calls. Fuck, he fell for Kent Parson a little bit more every time he got a damn cat photo.

And he only realized it after he was put on radio silence.

God, he's so pathetic.

But he's going to do what he does best: Put on some good old fashioned Southern Denial and continue life like he is just fine, thank you.

 

Bitty turns his phone down to silent during his morning routine. He determinedly doesn't look at it the whole morning. 

In fact, he makes it all the way til his and Jack's Annie's meeting before he even thinks about it.

Surprisingly, it's Jack who brings it up.

"Bittle."

Bitty looks up from where he was watching the swirls in his latte, the whip cream a melted cloud against pale brown.

"Hm?"

"Is everything...Are you okay?"

Jack has his captain voice on, but there is something in his eyes that makes Bitty look back down into his coffee like it will give him an out from this conversation.

"Everything's fine, Jack. I haven't a heaven's idea why you would ask me th-"

He cuts himself off and takes a sip of his latte before his voice breaks.

"Everything's good." He emphasises his statement by meeting Jack's eyes. He holds his gaze even though Jack's has gone droopy and sincere in a way that makes his heart rattle in his chest.

 

It's been 12 hrs and 30 minutes since Bitty has heard from Kent.

 

His hand unconciously goes to his pocket, and Jack's eyes track the movement.

"You haven't even looked at your phone all morning, Bittle."

Bitty resists the sudden urge to clear his throat.

"Why Mister Zimmermann! Are you chirping me? I'm not that attached to my phone ya know? I can go a whole morning without it!"

Jack's look of concern doesn't falter at Bitty's chipper tone. In fact, his brows furrow together and he shifts in his chair like he was going to make a move but thought better of it in the last second.

"Bittle. I know I'm not....the best at talking about emotional problems-" 

"JAck! That's not true, you do a great job at making sure the boys feel listen-" 

Jack cuts Bitty off with a quiet raised hand.

"It's okay Bittle. I know it's not one of my strong points." Jack holds his gaze, all 110% Zimmermann focus. "But I'll listen. If you want to talk about something, anything."

 

Bitty drops his eyes to his hands, idly rubs at a patch of dry skin, and tries to ignore the hot burn behind his eyes and in his throat.

It's a long moment before either of them talk again.

 

"T-Thanks Jack. I appreciate it. But..." Bitty glances up to see Jack's focus still on him and quickly glances back down again. "But, I don't think I'm ready to talk about it..."

He meets Jack's eyes.

"At least, not yet anyways."

 

Jack nods at him, all understanding and soft eyes and broad shoulder's tucked close to his ears.

"Okay. Just...I'm here alright? I mean, the whole team got your back Bittle."

 

Bitty huffs a sad little laugh.

"Yeah I think I got that memo when they chased off that poor football player in the caf."

"He was an idiot."

"He was just trying to get some pie!!" 

"Cornering you by the back tables was not the way to do it."

 

Heavy topic officially changed, Bitty spends the rest of their time at Annie's pretending like his pocket isn't heavy.

 

_X_

Bitty gets back to the Haus and quickly locks himself in his room. He sits at his desk, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath.

 

With a trembling sigh, he opens his eyes and unlocks his phone.

 

**16 missed alerts**

 

Let's see. 10 of those are from the Haus group chat. 3 are from Twitter. 2 are from Lardo, casually asking if he's okay and if they need to schedule a Froyo date.

One voicemail.

He closes his eyes and prays under his breath.

 

"Please be from Kent, please be from Kent, please be from Kent..."

He tries to ignore the feeling of his hands shaking as he opens his eyes and clicks the voicemail. Shakily he brings the phone up to his ear.

 

"Hey Bits, I uh, um, you told me to call? I wasn't sure if I was gonna-shit sorry. I want to call you. Like, all the time really. Which is kinda the problem? Not that you're a problem 'cause you're not! You're like, the opposite of a problem, kinda like sunshine really- oh fuck forget I said that. Shit, I'm just fucking this up. Fuckkk."

 

There's a long sigh that makes Bitty's heart ache.

"Just like-text me I guess, okay? At least I'm less of a mess that way."

 

Then there is the telling click of Kent hanging up, silence, then Bitty's voicemail kicking back in.

 

**Would you like to save, delete, or replay this message?**

 

The voicemail is a rambling mess that makes Bitty's heart ache and his stomach feel unbalanced. It's also the only voicemail he's ever gotten from Kent, ever.

 

He hits save.

 

Quickly he checks the time of the message, strangely hoping Kent called while he was in class or at morning skate so he can pretend that's the reason he didn't answer. He knows that it's a foolish hope, him and Kent practically have each other's schedules memorized.

Kent called right before Bitty and Jack's Annie's meet up.

When Bitty was still pretending that he could be just fine if he never heard from Kent again and that his phone didn't exist.

Fuck.

Bitty goes to open his and Kent's text stream only to get caught staring at the last message he sent him.

-Are you okay? Please call me.-

Bitty still doesn't know what happened. He still doesn't know why Kent put him on radio silence for a good 12 hours.   
He's still really really hurt over it.

Before he can talk himself out of it he opens up a new text message.

-Skype me. Tonight, my 9pm.-

He pauses and then sends another message.

-We have a lot to talk about, and I think it's time we saw each other's faces again.-

 

_X_

 

Kent is doing great.

At least, that's what he chants under his breath when one of his teammates manage to check him into the boards. What he chants when he just barely misses a goal, then almost checks someone on his loop back. 

 

Honestly, he spends the whole practice chanting 'It's fine. I'm doing great, this is going great' under his breath. 

 

Sure, Swoops and Kins have given him a few weird glances, and the coach has raised an eyebrow or two, but Kent is doing great!

 

He's also decidedly not thinking about Bitty. 

 

Not thinking about how he's probably ruined their friendship by inacting swift and devasting radio silence. Or about how he's saved Bitty's voicemail to his phone and already listened to it five times. Or even about how Bitty hasn't posted anything on twitter or instagram or snapchat all morning, or tried to text Kent again, and oh fucking hell, Kent has royally self destructed this time he is-

 

"Parser! On ya left!"

Kent manages to take the puck from Thompson and sink it into the net with barely 30 seconds left on their practice game.

"FUCK YEAH PARSER, THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!!!"

 

Kent is doing great.

 

_/=\\_

 

Swoops and Kins corner him in the locker room after practice. 

 

They are the two guys he's closest too on his team, so he really should have expected this. But then again, he really thought he could keep his preformance up till at least another practice. His skills are getting rusty.

 

"Parse, what the shit was that?"

"Swoops, damn it man, we agreed to be gentle and shit-"

"Nah Kins, I'm not playing with your 'we need to be a gentle support system' bullshit today!" Swoops attention goes right back to Kent. "Seriously man, what the shit?"

 

Kins rolls his eyes and Kent feels that beautiful kinship that earned Kins his nickname in the first place. Well, until he remembers this is an interrogation.

 

"Guys, I'm fine. I'm great, I have no idea what y'all" He cringes at the slip of tongue before continuing like nothing happened, "Are talking about."

 

Kins raises an eyebrow. Swoops crosses his arms and looks supremely unimpressed. 

Fuck.

 

Kent sighs before looking up to the ceiling his whole body slumping.

 

"Fine, I caught feelings again. And I'm kinda freaking about it."

Swoops makes a loud squeeking noise before clapping a hand on Kent's back.

"You beautiful fucker, why the shit didn't you say so!"

Kent looks back to see Swoops grinning and Kins nodding reasurringly.

"We got ya man, you know Swoops and I got our PHDs in Kent Parson Feelings Interpretation like 7 years ago."

 

Kent resists the urge to stick his tongue out at them and insteads rolls his eyes.

"There's nothing to interprete. I caught the feelings, I fucked up, and now he probably will never talk to me again..." He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Which I completely deserve after putting him on radio silence for...nearly a whole day now."

 

The boys are eerily quiet.

 

Kent hesitantly opens his eyes to see them staring down at him in a way that reminds him that, oh yeah, he is short for a professional hockey player. Fuck.

 

"Parse, ya know we say this out of love-" Swoops is nodding furiously along with Kins words. "But you're a moron."

Kent groans.

"Yeah...yeah I know."

Swoops hands him his phone and Kent decides to not try and figure out how he swiped it from his bag.

"Call him man. Like, level up and shit, and call your boy."

 

Kent palms the phone, sliding it into his gym shorts. 

"Yeah, okay I will, promise."

Kins gives him another nod before throwing an arm around Swoops shoulders and leading him out of the locker room; somehow sensing that Kent needs space.

 

Kent takes his phone out of his pocket and stares at it. He knows without looking that Bitty would be out of class by now.

With a trembling sigh, he unlocks his phone, finds Bitty's name, and hits call.

 

The phone rings for like, forever before Kent reaches Bitty's voicemail. 

Ouch.

Bitty has never not answered one of Kent's calls before. It hurts, but Kent knows he deserves it. He really really fucked up.

 

He listens to Bitty's standard voicemail message, takes a deep breath, then starts to talk.

Looks like he's going to have to start being honest with himself. And Bitty.

Fuck.  
The truth sucks.

_X_


End file.
